


The Wolves of Hogwarts

by Nymcria



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-08 02:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11072505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymcria/pseuds/Nymcria
Summary: An Alternate Universe in Hogwarts where characters from Game of Thrones experience a life of magic, drama, quidditch and romance.Robb Stark is in his final year at Hogwarts, his popularity at its peak for being Quidditch Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.Arya Stark is in her third year and has formed a close relationship with her brother and fellow housemate Gendry. She aspires to be like her brother and succeed in Quidditch.Sansa Stark, sitting her OWL's, is conflicted when she gains a crush on Margaery Tyrell, a popular Slytherin girl, but is afraid of the consequences.Bran Stark is beginning his first year at Hogwarts but has the constant fear of being sorted into a different house from his brother Robb.Jon Snow, now Head Boy, focuses on passing his NEWT levels but begins to form a romantic relationship with fellow Hufflepuff Satin Flowers.Daenerys Targaryen struggles between maintaining a normal life and controlling her arrogant brother, Viserys, from causing any more trouble.





	1. BRAN

**Author's Note:**

> POV Characters are used as a writing style.  
> This is an alternate universe, meaning it is not canon nor contains any HP characters.
> 
> The following characters will be POV characters, each narrating their own chapter:  
> \- Robb Stark  
> \- Sansa Stark  
> \- Arya Stark  
> \- Bran Stark  
> \- Jon Snow  
> \- Daenerys Targaryen  
> \- Margaery Tyrell
> 
> This is currently a work in progress. Additionally the title of this work is not the final title, I had to add something in order to create it. 
> 
> Original characters are included in this story. Jason Redwyne is here for the purpose of being Robb's loyal best friend and love interest.
> 
> The plot of the story will gradually progress through the school year, mainly focusing on the older characters, especially Robb, in their final year of school.

“But what if I’m not in Gryffindor,” Bran insisted, cowering at the thought of being separated from his brother.

Ned Stark laughed and ruffled his hair. “Where you are sorted should not matter, Brandon. Besides, I think you have a very good chance of joining Gryffindor House.”

 _But if what if I don’t_ , Bran thought nervously. Hufflepuff was not a prospect that delighted him.

A wind as sharp as the edge of a sword slapped against them as they entered King’s Cross station. Inside, the warmth was a pleasant welcome. Bran watched as the swarms of students, disguised in muggle attire, proceeded towards the platform. Truly, he was excited to go to Hogwarts; he had watched in and out every year his siblings getting the opportunity, studying their excitement as they each got their acceptance letter. He was too young to remember Robb, but he could recall Arya running around the table in glee, and Sansa’s joyful smile as she saw the letter arrive by owl.

 _And now it’s my turn_. He was excited, overwhelmed, but nevertheless nerves were choking him from the inside. It was a daunting prospect, being separated from your family.

When they had entered Platform Nine and ¾ the only thing Bran could think of was how magnificent the train was. Steam protruded from the red steam engine like a morning fog. A red plate at the front of the train had “HOGWARTS EXPRESS” carved into it with huge golden letters. All in all, it felt welcoming.

The train conductor whistled, and hundreds of witches and wizards began to board the train. “We should go,” said Robb, holding his trunk in one hand and his Quidditch broom in the other. He glanced around, studying the platform as if looking for someone.

“Searching for Jeyne, I presume?” Catelyn asked him with a faint smile on her lips.

“What?” Robb reddened, but hastily continued. “I mean, yes, of course, definitely.” Bran saw Jon and Sansa glance at Robb for a split second, as though they were hiding something.

“You best be off then,” their father said, passing the trunks to his children. He pulled Bran into a hug. “Good luck, Brandon. You’ll do fine, I know it.”

Bran embraced the hug tightly, feeling tears shimmer in his eyes. _Don’t cry, don’t be foolish_. He blinked them away to hide his sadness from his father.

“We’ll come back at Christmas, hopefully,” Robb assured his parents, although rather unconvincingly.

“And perhaps we’ll come and watch you play the Quidditch Cup for your last time,” Catelyn replied.

Robb grinned and boarded the train. Bran followed with his siblings, waving a bittersweet goodbye.

Bran followed Jon on the train, who found an empty compartment for them. They all entered, excluding Sansa, who chose to go sit with her friends instead. Gendry and Garlan, Robb’s friends from Gryffindor, soon joined them.

“What house do _you_ think I’ll get, Robb?” Bran asked his older brother.

“You’re worrying too much about it, Bran,” Robb assured him. “It doesn’t matter where you’re sorted as long as you don’t get Slytherin.” He and Garlan scowled over Viserys Targaryen, the Slytherin bully.

“But I don’t want Hufflepuff either!” Bran exclaimed.

Arya, who was stroking her barn owl, made a face. “What’s wrong with Hufflepuff? Hot Pie is in Hufflepuff.”

“Nobody else is in Hufflepuff…”

“Jon says hi.”

“Jon will be busy doing his Head Boy duties!” He was even doing them now, having been summoned to the prefects carriage.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Robb said sternly. “The Sorting Hat takes your choice into consideration, Bran, if it worries you that much.”

 _Is he lying to make me feel better?_ Bran wondered. “Are you certain?”

“Certain.”

Bran lay back on his seat and watched as Robb enthusiastically showed his best friends his new broom, the Nimbus 2005, and Arya practiced new wand movements from her spellbooks. He rested his head against the window. _Hopefully I get Gryffindor_.


	2. SANSA

The train rocked and swayed beneath her feet as Sansa progressed towards the third carriage. She found Margaery in a compartment with her friends, some of whom she knew, some mere acquaintances to her. She recognised Daenerys Targaryen – _everyone_ knew Daenerys – with her beautiful silver-white hair braided and cascading down her back. Missandei was in Sansa’s own house, Ravenclaw, and she was a very bright girl, having got an Outstanding Grade for seven of her nine subjects. Next to her was Jeyne Westerling, also a Ravenclaw, though Sansa barely knew her. _She’s very pretty._

Margaery herself was next to the window, chatting away excitedly to her girlfriends. Her beautiful, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in waves. _And her eyes, she has pretty eyes_. She noticed that right away when they first became friends last year, bonding over their shared passion for Charms.

The Tyrell girl leapt up joyfully when she noticed Sansa by the door. “Sansa!” she exclaimed, happiness thick in her voice. _She’s really nice, how can someone be so nice_? “I’m so happy you’ve come to join us. Take a seat, please. Have you come to meet the girls here?”

Sansa nodded, smiling. “Missandei and I have spoken on many occasions. Jeyne is also in my house. I have not had the pleasure of meeting Daenerys.”

Daenerys smiled, her violet eyes shining stunningly. “It’s nice to meet you, Sansa.”

“How were your holidays?” Margaery asked her.

Sansa hesitated when Margaery watched her with her large brown eyes. She felt her cheeks redden slightly. _Why do you have to be such a fool?_ “Uh, yes, they were lovely, thank you.”

“I was just telling the girls how I had the opportunity of going to Hungary,” Margaery explained. “My father is studying all sorts of creatures there for a year, including dragons and mermaids. It was gorgeous there.”

“It sounds lovely,” Sansa responded. “I’ve never visited another country.”

Margaery smiled her warm, welcoming smile once more. “You’re sitting your OWL’s this year, aren’t you?”

Remembering the prospect made her nervous. “Yeah.”

“I’m sure you’ll do absolutely fine, you’re very smart.”

“Not as smart as you.”

Margaery smiled again. “That’s very nice of you, but I know you’ll do great.”

 _I’ve never had a friend be so nice to me before,_ Sansa thought. She wanted to cry in happiness at the thought.

“Here, shall we try these?” Jeyne emerged from her trunk with a packet of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Beans. Sansa knew where this was going.

Margaery shrugged, grinning. “Why not?”

“I’m not going first,” said Missandei, sliding away from Jeyne. Dany did the same, giggling.

“I’ll do it,” Margaery sighed. She smirked, dipping her hand into the box and extracting a bright green bean.

“It looks nice,” Jeyne confessed. _It probably isn’t,_ Sansa thought, studying the jelly bean sceptically.

Margaery popped it into her mouth and chewed it carefully. She screwed her face up. “Grass.” Missandei and Dany exclaimed in disgust when Margaery managed to swallow the sweet. She took the box and held it over to Sansa. “Your turn, Sansa.”

 _Oh no._ Sansa didn’t like Bertie Bott’s, but she didn’t want to disappoint Margaery. Reluctantly, she dipped her hand into the box and dug out a jelly bean the colour of mud. _Merlin’s beard, I’m going to start retching_.

“That one looks _so_ gross!” Jeyne exclaimed.

Wishing not to delay it any further, Sansa popped the sweet into her mouth. She choked as the disgusting flavour reached her taste buds, and she tried her best not to retch. She chewed rapidly, trying to swerve her thoughts elsewhere. _Think of Hogwarts. Think of home. Think of Margaery…_

When she had finished the jelly bean Missandei passed her a bottle of pumpkin juice to wash it down. “It was disgusting, it was like dog food,” Sansa told them, emptying the bottle.

Margaery giggled. “It’s done now. You’re so brave, I couldn’t have done that!” She brushed a loose strand of Sansa’s hair behind her ear. Sansa could do nothing but smile, her cheeks blushing a shade of pink.

The rest of the journey the girls continued challenging each other with the jelly beans. Much to Sansa’s amusement, Jeyne and Dany were consistently getting the foulest of flavours; earthworm, rotten egg and dirt among them. The sun was setting behind the grassy hills now, Sansa noticed. The sky glowed red in the dusk.

Sansa face dropped when Arya stormed into the compartment. “What are you doing here?” she asked her, irritated.

“I’ve lost my robes,” Arya said, breathless, and yanking down Sansa’s trunk from the luggage rack.

“ _What are you doing?”_ Sansa demanded, before remembering Margaery was there. “I mean, why would your robes be in _my_ trunk?”

“I was in your trunk before we left the house to get one of your spellbooks,” Arya said while messing around the contents of the trunk. She emerged with her robes, crunched up in her grasp.

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed, looking at the mess. “Look what you’ve done!”

“It was like that anyway,” her sister snapped.

“Here, I’ll help you,” Margaery offered, kneeling to fold things neatly back into Sansa’s trunk.

“You don’t need to, it’s fine,” Sansa told her, but Margaery insisted. Sansa scowled at her sister, who in return screwed up her face. _Why does she have to interrupt and ruin everything?_


	3. JON

When the Hogwarts Express came to a halt it was Jon Snow's duty to herd the students out of the train and direct them to the appropriate professors. It wasn't a task that he particularly looked forward to doing.  _Viserys and Joff will try to make a real prat out of me_. He straightened the Head Boy badge on his robes - a yellow pin with "HEAD BOY" carved on it in gold letters.

Jon was giving instructions to the prefects alongside Head Girl Asha Greyjoy when Robb showed up, broomstick in hand.  _He sure loves to show people that he's king of Quidditch._ "Robb, what are you doing here?"

"You've not seen Jason, have you?" he asked, searching the carriage.

 _Your parents certainly haven't._ "He's not a prefect, why would he be here?"

Robb shrugged. "Didn't find him on the train. He's probably went off. See you later."

Jon nodded as his cousin departed. Asha watched him intently. "He's not told his parents, has he?"

He shook his head. "Nor is it my business."

Asha laughed. "They'll find out soon enough, and it won't be out of his mouth. The entire school knows, Snow."

"I think I've noticed," Jon retorted before herding the remaining prefects off the train. The journey up to the castle was bitterly cold, but Jon wrapped himself with his thick scarf. Nevertheless, the chill didn't bother him too much. Jon was raised far north by his uncle Ned, where winters could be harsh if need be. He thought of his mother then - Lyanna, was her name. That's all Jon knew. That, and that she was sorted into Ravenclaw.

The carriage rocked and swayed as it progressed up the hill towards Hogwarts castle. Asha sat next to him, her breath misting in the air. They were joined by two fifth-year prefects sitting across from them: Podrick Payne from Hufflepuff and Trystane Martell from Gryffindor.

Sansa had been made Ravenclaw prefect too, now that she had started her fifth year. Come to think about it, Jon did not remember her being in the prefect carriage.  _I'll let her off, she probably didn't know._ Sansa would make a good prefect, Jon reckoned. The Headmaster certainly thought so to have her made one. Jon was happy for her, as Sansa never got as much recognition as her siblings; Robb was a talented quidditch player, envied by everyone; Arya was a Beater for the team, and was also infamous for her mischief, earning many detentions throughout the year. Then Jon himself was made Head Boy for Hufflepuff.  _She'll be happy to make aunt Catelyn proud._

"What are you brooding for, Jon?" Trystane asked.

"Nothin'," he lied. The memories of Catelyn Stark weren't very joyful, from his perspective.

"We're here," Asha announced. She leapt off of the carriage. "We're to go inside, have all the senior students sitting mannerly."

Jon nodded, chattering his teeth.  _The cold is unusually bitter tonight_. 

He was exceedingly grateful when he entered the warmth of the Great Hall. The room was all noise and chatter, students exchanging conversations about their holidays, excited quidditch players discussing the upcoming tournament, third-years talking about where they're most excited to visit in Hogsmeade.  _I could go with a pint of Butterbeer right now._

Jon spied Sansa sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Missandei and Jeyne. They were in a deep trance, apparently, awed by Willas Tyrell's adventures over the summer. Jon approached her. "Sansa. Where were you on the train?"

His words grabbed Sansa's attention. "Oh, I was sitting with Margaery Tyrell and her friends. Why?"

"You were meant to be in the prefect's carriage, remember?" He grinned when he saw her face, embarrassed and shocked that she abandoned her duties, especially on front of her friends. "It's fine, don't worry about it. You didn't know."

"I'm sorry, Jon, I'll remember next time. Have you seen Arya?"

"I've not, in fact," Jon replied, pondering on her whereabouts. When Arya wasn't around, trouble was certainly bubbling. Jon knew that for certain.

Professor Olenna Tyrell, the Deputy Headmistress, waddled in on her walking stick and approached Jon and Asha. "The first-years will be entering in a few moments, make sure everyone is seated, will you?"

"Will do, Professor," Asha assured her. Professor Tyrell smiled a toothless smile and went back to the doors.

"We've done a fantastic job," Jon said jokingly, looking around the hall, where students had already sat themselves quietly.

"Yeah, that was obviously us-"

Asha's words were cut off by the sudden shrill scream. Jon leapt to the side, missing the goblet catapulting through the air, the contents of the pumpkin juice pouring all over Ygritte from Gryffindor. She was infuriated, Jon noticed. He turned to find the source of the goblet to find Arya arguing with Gendry. Arya, angry for whatever reason, shouted from the other side of the table, but Gendry, not taking her seriously, was rolling on his seat laughing.  _Little sister_ , Jon thought. He walked over, picking Arya up by her waist and sitting her a distance away from Gendry. "It's not my fault she was in the way!" Arya snapped. "I was aiming for him, he was making fun of the way I hit the bludgers in Quidditch!"

"Calm down, or I'll send you up to your common room," Jon told her. Arya scowled silently, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed on Gendry.

Headmaster Seaworth clapped for the hall's attention, signalling the first-years' arrival. Jon took a seat at the Hufflepuff table and watched as the doors opened.  _A new year_. He spied Bran quickly, and smiling to himself, he took a sip of Pumpkin Juice.

 

 


	4. ROBB

His little brother caught a glimpse of him and gave a cheerful wave. Robb grinned back, taking a swig from his goblet. The party of first-years proceeded to the front, gathering as a crowd facing the stool. Professor Tyrell marched forward, scroll in one frail hand, walking stick clutched in the other. 

"When I call your name, you will come forth and take a seat," the prickly old lady said.

 _Just don't trip on the way up like Jon did in his sorting,_ Robb thought. He suppressed a laugh as he recalled the memory.

"Baratheon, Shireen."

A timid little girl with brown hair waddled up to the stool and took a seat. Her cousin, Tommen Baratheon from Hufflepuff, gave her a thumbs up from his table.

"Ah, I know just where to put you..." murmured the Sorting Hat, wise and ancient. "Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers. Robb clapped and watched his sister Sansa welcome Shireen Baratheon graciously to their house. "What's with all the Baratheons getting split up?" Garlan Tyrell pointed out. He was very perceptive.

"Being related doesn't influence anything," Robb told him.

"That's exactly why you and Arya got together, eh?" said Gendry.

"Sansa got Ravenclaw, and Bran..." Robb considered it thoroughly for a moment.  _He's not going to get Gryffindor, I know it. I don't want to, but I do._ "We'll see where Bran goes."

"Arryn, Robin."

Robb did not realise that his own cousin was enrolled this year. Robin was his Aunt Lysa's son, whom he rarely saw, yet nevertheless he recognised him all the same.

"Slytherin!"

The serpent table applauded with a roar at their new addition.

"Poor boy's got to deal with Joff and Viserys," Gendry said bitterly.

"We  _all_ have to deal with Joff and Viserys," Garlan corrected, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

The thought of Viserys and Joffrey made Robb clench his fist. "I'm having none of their attitudes this year. If they even try to sabotage the Quidditch Cup this year, I'm going to kick their arses." Gendry chortled.

"Stark, Brandon."

Robb's gaze shot up, fixing on his younger brother. He looked pale as he approached the stool. Sansa equally looked nervous, Arya intrigued, and Jon proud. Professor Tyrell placed the hat on Bran's head and the tear along its brim opened like a mouth. "Ah! Another Stark. They never stop coming. But where to put you? I think I know  _exactly_ well. RAVENCLAW!"

 _I should've expected it_. Robb clapped and cheered his little brother on, happy for him, yet a sadness swallowed him whole as well.  _Bran will be upset, he wanted to get Gryffindor, he wanted to be with me_. 

Sansa greeted him delightedly, pulling him into a hug. Bran grinned, Robb could see.  _Perhaps he's fine after all, the joy of the Sorting Ceremony is too busy intoxicating him._ He let out a small sigh of relief.

The ceremony concluded when Jojen Reed was also sorted into Ravenclaw. The Headmaster rose, looking finer than ever with his darkening hair and grey stubble, a warm smile on his lips as inviting as ever. "I'm sure you're all very hungry and increasingly tired by the minute, so let us not delay ourselves any further. Tuck in."

Seaworth clapped and the dishes magically filled with food - roasted duck, lentil soups, chicken wings, roast potatoes seasoned with herbs, honeyed lamb mixed with peppers, fresh salmon. Gendry licked his lips and filled his plate with everything he could find. "You eat like a pig," Arya retorted, materialising out of nowhere and squeezing between him and Robb.

"Where have you been?" Robb asked his little sister.

"Down there, stuck with that boring lot." She pointed towards the likes of Trystane Martell and Asha Greyjoy. Robb laughed at the notion. As he reached out to grab a bowl of tomato soup, Robb locked eyes with Jason Redwyne across the hall, sitting at the Ravenclaw table next to Willas Tyrell. Jason nodded and smiled, but averted his gaze to avoid attracting attention.  _His stupid, charming smile_. 

"When are quidditch try-outs starting?" Arya asked with a mouthful of chicken in her mouth. Grease dripped down her chin, but seemingly it did not bother her.

"Soon, I'd assume," Garlan Tyrell answered. "In the next few weeks."

"I'm hoping to book the pitch next week," Robb told them. "Before the Slytherins do. Not meaning to offend your sister, Garlan. Are you going to try out, Arya?"

"Obviously," she responded, piling roast potatoes onto her plate. "I want to be a Beater. You can teach me, I know you can. I could be just like you. And I'm pretty good with the bat."

Robb laughed and mussed her hair the way Jon would. "That was only in the backyard. Jon told me you whacked him once."

"It was an accident," she insisted, indignant that Jon would tell him such a thing.

Robb chortled once more. "You can try-out. I'm sure you'll do a better job than most people."

When the feast had ended, the Headmaster dismissed them and asked the prefects to guide the first-years to their common rooms. Robb was relieved he wasn't selected as a prefect last year; getting the first-years to listen to you seemed like a tremendous task. Instead, Robb waited in the entrance hall as all the students departed, until the last few Hufflepuffs had cleared off towards the kitchens. Jason Redwyne waited for him on the first floor landing. 

"Where were you on the train?" Robb asked after kissing his boyfriend.

"I arrived at King's Cross rather early and I couldn't find you, sorry about that." Jason's messy black hair was rougher than usual, unkempt. His hazel eyes shone brightly behind his reading glasses.

"Wouldn't have minded spending time with you before having to go to our common rooms."

"You don't have to, just yet. The castle grounds are less patrolled, we can go for a walk."

Robb smiled.  _His eyes. Why does he have such beautiful eyes?_ "If it pleases you." He pressed his lips on Jason's, kissing him softly.

 

 


	5. DAENERYS

Dany woke up in the dead of night with a throbbing headache. Unable to get back to sleep, she shuffled out towards the main common room. The place was dead as a corpse. She could not tell if it was truly night; being deep in the dungeons, the Slytherin common room never saw sunlight. All they had was a large glass window beneath the Great Lake, looking out into the depths of the waters and beyond. The giant squid was nowhere to be seen.  _Neither is Viserys,_ Dany thought with a glance around the cavernous room.  _For that I am grateful._

She had rested on an armchair by the fireplace, warm and cosy with a spellbook on her lap. Dany thought best to distract herself from the headache by practicing her spells. "Aguamenti," she said, pointing her wand to an empty goblet. Two single drops of water dripped out of her wand and  _plopped_ into the cup innocently. She sighed.  _Charms just isn't my strong subject._ Instead, she tucked away her book and shut her eyes.

Dany guessed it was morning when she reawakened, judging by the change of colour of the lake. It had turned a lighter shade of murky green now. Without further ado, she swept to her dormitory, trying not to wake Tyene Sand next to her, and dressed in her robes before departing to the Great Hall.

The hall was scarce, with the Ravenclaw table filling the most students up early in the morning. The Slytherin table was bare with the exception of Renly Baratheon, who sat munching on a slice of toast whilst reading his Astronomy book.

"Morning Dany," he said, glancing up joyfully at her arrival.

"Morning," Dany replied, stifling a loud yawn.

"Slept well?" Renly asked kindly, though Dany could tell by the look of his face that he knew the answer.

She shook her head, smirking at him. "Perhaps I drank too much butterbeer at the sorting feast. Shae snuck some in from Hogsmeade."

Renly grinned. "That was unwise. Nevertheless, it is the start of our term today. What do you have first?"

_That is a good question_. Dany brought out a piece of parchment from her pocket and unwrapped it. "Herbology. Not exactly one of my favourites, I must admit. When are Quidditch try-outs?"

"Can't be certain," Renly said. "Margaery said she hopes to start them this Friday, assuming she can book the pitch. She said she likes the current team, though."

_I can think of two people I would love to kick out_. Nevertheless, Dany chose to take a different route. "I think it would still be best if we gave some others a chance. After all, there's a Chaser spot to be filled. I remember Tyene wishing to try out-"

Dany's words were cut out when she heard her brother call her name. She turned to see Viserys tower above her, looking gallant as ever.  _Inside, he is quite the opposite._

"Daenerys," he said. "Might I have a word with you?"

Dany faked her kindness. "Of course, brother." She abandoned Renly reluctantly, dread consuming her from the inside.

When they had wandered out into the Entrance Hall, Viserys turned on her angrily. "What did I tell you over the holidays?"

Dany knew what this was about, but feigned her confusion anyway. "What do you mean?"

"Your friends," he shot. "I don't like your company at all."

"Because you don't like muggle-borns?" she retorted, disgusted. "That's not my problem. I can be around who I want."

Viserys' violet eyes shone with anger. "You wander with traitors. The Tyrell girl is a half-blood. The Westerling a muggle-born."

"I don't care. They are my friends."

"And what were you doing with Renly Baratheon?" Viserys spat. "He's a creep."

"He is our housemate." Dany stood her ground, though fearfully. "And he is good."

_He can't do anything to me, not in school._ "I can't do anything about the muggle-borns," he said in a harsh whisper. "Not until I leave this retched place. When I do, you will see when I drive them all out of our world. Until then, I will teach some of my rivals a lesson. The Starks will be the first."

"Because of your petty rivalry with Robb?" Dany let out a bitter laugh. "It will be amusing watching you try."

"Be careful," he continued, ignoring her remark. "Treasure your so called 'friends'. After this year, you might scarcely see them." With that, Viserys stalked off. Just as she went to return to the Great Hall, Margaery emerged from the staircase.

"Good morning," she said joyfully. "What was Viserys saying? He didn't look pleased."

"It was nothing." Dany sighed.  _I may have stood my ground, but that was not a good enough victory_. 


	6. BRAN

"But how do I get to the  _Charms_ _classroom_ _?"_ Bran asked his older sister, nervous at the prospect of getting to his first class late.

"Look," said Sansa, pointing at an illustrated map in her copy of  _Hogwarts, A History_. "So you take the shortcut through the portrait on the first floor landing. That takes you to the library, you'll love it there. From there you take the door out of the library and the classroom is literally down that corridor."

"That's what I did, but I didn't find a library!"

Sansa frowned. "The portrait leads you into the library. Are you sure you took the right one?"

Bran thought for a moment. "The first floor landing starts off with a door, right?"

His older sister giggled and ruffled his hair. "That is the first floor, you're right, but there's two landings. The other has the portrait. Now hurry up, you're going to be late."

Bran nodded, hastily shoving everything into his bag.

He was breathless by the time he had reached the portrait. _Why must there be so many stairs?_  The man in the frame was old and wizened, his thin white hair falling out. "Password?"

"Uh." Sansa had told him the password, but pronouncing it was a different task. "Galantis - galanthis - no, Galanthus... Negalus..  _Galanthus Nivalis!"_ For a moment, Bran thought he got it wrong. Then the old man smiled, waved his hand, and the portrait swung open.

Thankfully, the class was still lined up outside when Bran had reached his destination. They would be sharing Charms lessons with the Slytherins this year. He stood with Shireen Baratheon and Jojen Reed, his fellow Ravenclaws. "You were almost late," Shireen told him.

"I got lost," Bran murmured, looking down at his feet.

Bran heard the door open as he stood in line and the class went silent. At first he was confused when no one emerged; he peaked over their heads and was startled to find that Professor Lannister was a dwarf. The teacher watched the class intently with his mismatched eyes, then smiled at the nervous pupils. "Chop chop, let's not delay. Go in."

For the lesson, Bran sat with Jojen. Professor Lannister insisted that they would not be casting any spells on their first day, but showed them an example of the Levitation Charm, promising that they would practice it next week. The Professor waddled over to a table where he had placed a white feather, aimed his wand, and said " _Wingardium Leviosa."_ The feather fluttered into the air, followed by an applause from the class. Bran was mesmerized.  _It's so cool._

They left their lesson with a big smile on their faces. Bran was especially enjoying his time. He had watched his family for so long; Robb playing Quidditch flawlessly, his sisters being enrolled, his parents casting magic around the house. He had always envied them, yet now he felt over the moon to be doing it himself. He wanted to make his parents proud.

Bran was too busy daydreaming to avoid the clash. His bag went flying off his shoulder, its contents pouring all over the stone floor. Several older students laughed. Embarrassed, Bran knelt down and scooped up his books with Shireen's help.

The boy who had knocked into Bran stood over them. "Well well, look here Viserys. We have a new Stark in town."

Bran gazed up at the boy angrily. Joffrey Baratheon watched him with a wicked grin. His friend Viserys joined him by his shoulder, smirking. "Robb Stark's little brother, isn't it?"

Bran nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"Your brother is a right prat, did you know that?" Joffrey taunted.

"Leave him alone," said Shireen.

"Shut up, mudblood."

"Now, now, Joff," said Viserys, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's not frighten the little first-years. We don't want to anger Robb Stark, do we?"

The two boys left, cackling to one another. Bran stared at them, anger stirring in him.

 

 


	7. ROBB

The rain slashed at the tent like a savage beast, ripping and tearing holes through the fabric. A thick droplet of rainwater slapped Robb in the face, obscuring his vision for a mere moment. He blinked the water away.  _Not the best conditions for Quidditch, yet I must do what needs be done._

Roughly twenty Gryffindors had gathered in the tent by the pitch; hopefuls determined to display their skills and prove their worth to the Quidditch Team. Yet even as he glanced over them, Robb knew that either most of them would not be good enough, or he would simply keep the majority of his already talented team. 

As it turned out, two Beater positions were in need of being filled. Gendry was fine himself as the Seeker, and Asha, Garlan and Trystane worked well together as Chasers. Robb himself was the Keeper, a position he enjoyed the best.

Arya sat on the bench directly on front of Robb, looking excited.  _She is determined to prove her worth._ It worried Robb; he did not doubt her skill, but he was anxious that two Gryffindors better than her would emerge victorious. After all, most of those gathered were fifth and sixth years, while Arya was merely a third year full of mischief.

"Alright, now that you've learnt the basic rules, it's time to begin the practices," Robb announced to the group. "Let us move onto the pitch, ease ourselves around on our brooms and then commence the try-outs."

"Now? In that?" Ygritte asked indignantly, looking at Robb as if he'd just asked her to eat an out-of-date pumpkin pasty.

Robb was irritated by her remark. "Do I look like a fool or a liar? Yes, we're going out in the rain. You'll be playing in worse conditions when the actual matches start, so you better toughen up and force your way through it. These matches can go on for hours."

That shut Ygritte up.

It was a Friday morning at the end of September, their second week back at Hogwarts, yet torrential rain tumbled down from the skies as though they were in the middle of a winter storm. Robb was soaked to the bone after several minutes, his quidditch robes sticking to his skin. He could feel himself shivering already. "Alright, mount your brooms. We'll begin as soon as your up."

The try-outs were to be reasonably simple. As a regular Chaser, Garlan would fly about with a Quaffle in his hand to score in the hoops. The beater practicing would have to ensure a bludger did not try and hurt Garlan. Additionally, Asha and Trystane would fling their quaffles at random, like bludgers, to test the Beater.

Ygritte was the fourth person to try, and Robb was impressed.  _She flies naturally on the broom._ Her vibrant red hair flung about in swirls as she whacked away two impending Quaffles with a loud thud. By the time she had beaten away the Bludger for the eighth time, Gendry flew over to him and whispered, "she's amazing. You'd be a fool to decline her."

  _I'd be a fool if I chose her over Arya as well,_ Robb thought to himself, conflicted. Arya had not tried out yet, but she was his sister... Although, at the time being, no Gryffindors had been near as talented as Ygritte, and  _two_ Beater positions needed to be filled.

One of the Sand sisters took their turn next, silent and brooding as the rain bounded against her red hood. She was brutal with the bat, but not as swift on a broom like Ygritte was. Both skills were needed to survive in the position. Robb bit his lip. "It won't do," he told Gendry next to him, who was tossing a quaffle from one hand to the other.

"She's decent," Gendry admitted.

"Decent isn't exceptional."

"Alright Stark, you next!" shouted Asha, gliding near one of the stands.

Robb tensed. His little sister walked onto the pitch, her clothes ragged and her hair ten times messier than usual due to the weather, but she smiled happily nevertheless.  _I could do with some Felix Felicis right now._

Asha's jaw dropped and Trystane's eyes widened when Arya took off on her broom.  _She handles it like a professional_. His little sister flew about flawlessly, in and out of the stands, not colliding once with a single stretch of wood. She was reckless though, which could prove dangerous in a rough match with the Slytherins. Robb was immensely impressed.

The bludger shot for Garlan, who held his quaffle tightly in his grip, speeding towards Robb's left hoop. Arya, having been too busy showing off her skills, spotted the bludger and sped towards it hastily. She swung the heavy bat and hit the ball with a loud  _thud_ , sending it catapulting towards one of the stands... however, the bludger was not defeated just yet. It swiveled back, streaming through the wind, this time for Arya. It was fast. She bent her broom down clumsily, flying below the impending Bludger, missing it by inches.  _Do it, hit it, you can do it_. Robb struggled keeping his eyes opened... and then Arya spun back, swung the bat, and hit the bludger into the far distance.

"I've made up my mind," said Robb fifteen minutes later as the Gryffindors returned to their tent. Gendry and Asha were by his side.

"You'd be a dumbass if you dropped Stark, and Sand was pretty good too," said Asha sternly.

"And the Manderly boy, plus don't forget Ygritte," Gendry reminded him.

"I don't need your opinions, I've made my final decision," Robb told them. 

When the Gryffindors gathered in the tent, Robb broke the news to them all. "Ygritte and Arya have won our positions as Beaters. You were all fantastic, and I regret to turn the rest of you away. Definitely try again next year." Arya grinned at him at the back row when they disassembled. Robb smiled back. 

"Here, take these back to the shed," said Garlan, passing the broomsticks to Robb. "I'll go pack the quaffles." Robb nodded.

He was startled when he found his boyfriend sheltered in the broom shed, a book held firmly in his grasp. His hair was soaked from the rain. "What the hell are you doing in here?" Robb asked.

"I was watching from the stands, you didn't notice me," said Jason Redwyne. "You're always putting the brooms back here. I wanted to see ya. We've been caught up with classes this entire week." Robb let out a deep sigh of exhaustion. Jason ruffled his hair. 

"It's been a long day."

Jason nodded. "But it's your birthday in a few weeks, the big eighteen. It's going to be great."

Thunder rolled across the grey sky. "We should get going," Robb said. "I'll find you on the weekend. Maybe we can sneak into the prefect's bathroom, like we did before the holidays."

His boyfriend grinned. "Sounds nice." 

Robb pressed his lips against Jason's. He then tossed his soaking Quidditch uniform off. "Or we can stay here for a while. Me and you." He held his boyfriend tight as the storm raged on.


End file.
